Invasion
by hyperpsychomaniac
Summary: Cortes receives a transmission from Oslo, informing him he knows the location of Puerto Angel and will be arriving within the hour.
1. Chapter 1

**Invasion**

"Cortes!"

Puerto Angel's Captain slammed his half empty bottle of water down on the tavern's bar and glanced over his shoulder. He was just in time to see that Wayan had thrown open the tavern's doors, and was now making his way hurriedly across the room with little care for the other patrons in the tavern.

"Wayan, what is it?" Cortes asked.

Wayan drew up to the bar, panting. As Cortes looked up at him, it suddenly occurred to him that the man looked scared.

"You have a transmission, Sir. I think… you have to come see it. _Now_."

He didn't just look scared; he looked petrified. Cortes knew this must be serious. "Alright…" Cortes stood up, and then followed Wayan. He had to force his stride to keep up. "Wayan…" Now Cortes was starting to feel apprehensive himself. He could see that Wayan was sweating, and he was fairly sure it wasn't because of the weather. "… who from?"

Wayan swallowed hard before replying. "… Oslo."

----

"Ah… Cortes. Captain of the Saint Nazaire, pirate and thief…"

"Get to the point, Oslo," Cortes snarled, resisting the urge to address the man with his own string of offences. He had some good ones, but doubted Oslo would be bothered by them. He had taken the transmission on the Saint Nazaire, not wanting to be overheard until he'd found out what Oslo wanted. And how he'd known how to contact him.

"There's no need to be rude, I wasn't finished yet…"

"What," Cortes growled, "do you want?"

Oslo allowed himself a small smile. "I was going to add: ruler and protector of the bloc _Puerto Angel_…" He said the bloc's name slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue, almost as if to be certain Cortes heard exactly what he'd said.

Cortes heard him alright. His whole body stiffened.

"I thought that might get your attention," said Oslo. "Yes, I know the name and location of your bloc. I know you have both Mila and Lena there. I would also hazard a guess that that is your base, and I may also find the Saint Nazaire there…"

"What makes you think we're on this bloc 'Puerto Angel'?" Cortes spat, trying to sound indifferent. But he could hear his own voice shaking, and knew he wasn't even close to fooling Oslo. Whatever the Guardian knew, he was already sure of.

"We tracked one of your Mosquitoes," Oslo smirked. "I naturally assumed that since it was being piloted by Mahad, his mother and sister would be wherever he returned to. You really should keep a tighter rein on your crew, Cortes."

"And why are you telling me this?" Cortes asked. He was no longer trying to fool Oslo. There was no point. He simply didn't understand why Oslo had contacted them. There was no reason for him to give them any warning. He could've just flown in, and they probably wouldn't have realised until moments before the troops arrived.

"We're an hour away, Cortes. Now is that enough time for you to rescue all on your pathetic bloc? I think not. If you're wise, maybe you'll have Mila and Lena ready for me when I arrive." On that note, Oslo cut the transmission.

"An hour…" said Wayan. "Do you think he's serious?"

"He knew the bloc's name. He knows where we are. I think he's just hoping we'll hand over Mila and Lena. But he'll still kill everyone. Sound the sirens, Wayan." Cortes drew in a breath. "We're going to have to evacuate Puerto Angel."

----

The residents of Puerto Angel were all gathered within ten minutes. They knew the sirens meant business, and failure to acknowledge them might very well mean their deaths.

"Alright, everyone listen up!" Cortes' voice rang out across the tavern, loud and strong. He himself, however, did not feel quite so strong. _How am I supposed to tell them this?_ But there was no time to ponder how to put things nicely. They only had an hour. "The Sphere have found out Puerto Angel is a pirate bloc. They're coming here in an hour. We're all going to have to leave."

The news was not received well, and the tavern erupted in confused voices.

"Why do we have to leave?!" someone shouted.

"Yeah, can't we negotiate something…?"

"You all know we can't negotiate with the Sphere," Cortes shouted. "They want some of the Seijins here, and they're going to want all the pirates and our ships. Now they will kill _everyone_ on this bloc for harbouring us, you know that…"

"They want the Seijins? Then let's just hand them over, they belong together anyway. Maybe that will make the Sphere happy…"

"Didn't you hear me, Patrucci? They'll kill anyone they find, whether we hand anyone over of not. We leave. So, this is what I want everyone to do. Anyone with ships, go start them up. If you have cargo, offload it _all_. You will be carrying everyone who does not have a ship, and you will be filling your ships until they can't carry anymore. Anyone who fails to comply will have their ships and cargo confiscated. Understood? Pirates, if you want to leave with your families, you are free to go. But I need volunteers to stay back to the last possible moment to make sure everyone gets out, and I'll need Mosquito pilots. Alright? Everyone, dismissed!"

The people in the tavern headed to the doors in somewhat of a controlled panic. Most of the pirates stayed. They would be enough for Cortes' needs, and he was glad he didn't have too many. He would risk as little of his people as possible, but it was impossible to not risk any of them.

"Alright…" Cortes drew in a breath, trying to keep his body running on the adrenaline. He knew if he didn't, he'd just collapse into thinking how hopeless it all seemed. Too many times he had felt unable to function because it looked as if there was no way out. He couldn't let himself think it wouldn't work. "I need people in the Mosquitoes…"

Cortes sorted out the pirates, giving them jobs as he saw fit. He was almost through them all when Mahad came running up to him from the other side of the tavern.

"Cortes!"

Cortes felt anger flare inside him, directed at the young man. "Shouldn't you be on a ship, Mahad!? I don't need you getting in the way…"

"I want to help!" Mahad cut him short. "Cortes, I barely convinced Lena and Mum they had to get on a ship. I had to convince them they'd be more use there in case the Sphere caught up… I think they only really went because they wanted the other to go… but I've got to stop the Sphere getting after them! Let me use a Mosquito…"

"I'm not so sure about that…" said Cortes.

"Look…" Mahad sighed, looking down at the floor. "I don't know if this is my fault… I didn't tell you, but before I borrowed a Mosquito and I got in a fight with some Sphere ships. Maybe… they followed? I don't know…"

"Mahad…" Cortes gritted his teeth. "Look, I don't know how Oslo found out we were here. But if you think you can help, take a Mosquito."

Mahad's eyes actually brightened. "Thankyou!" He took off.

"Just be careful, alright!?"

He was left with Dahlia and Wayan. And then he noticed Cheng, who had previously been too short to see behind the other pirates, and had probably been hiding on purpose.

"Cheng! Get on a ship!" Cortes shouted, feeling a pang of worry for the boy's safety. _He shouldn't still be here!_

"But you're staying behind, aren't you?"

"Cheng…"

"You've got to get on a ship too! But I know you're going to stay here as long as you can, you'd even…"

"Wayan," Cortes interrupted. "Come with me. We need to make sure Puerto Angel's computers are destroyed. Dahlia, I want you to go power up the Saint Nazaire. Be ready to take the last of the pirates, and blast your way out if you have to. But first, get Cheng on a ship. I don't care how much he tells you he doesn't want to go." With that, Cortes turned, and began to head in the direction of Puerto Angel's computers.

"No, Cortes…"

He could hear Cheng behind him, but Cortes didn't turn around.

"Come on, Cheng. We have to get you on a ship…" said Dahlia.

"No! Cortes… you can't! I know you're going to stay… Dahlia, let me go! No! _Cortes_!"

Cortes could hear Cheng struggling and screaming against Dahlia, trying to get away from her. The boy's screams rung in his ears as he jogged out of the tavern, just wanting the doors to close behind him to cut out the sound.

---

"That's the last one…" Wayan powered down his smoking gun. In front of him the last computer smouldered, its information destroyed and irretrievable.

"Good…" Cortes slung his own rifle back over his shoulder. _Fifteen minutes…_ "Wayan, that's all I need you to do here. Get back to the Saint Nazaire and help Dahlia. I have the feeling you're still going to have to fight your way out… so you'd better get going."

"Alright, but what are you going to do?" Wayan asked forcefully, staring at the Captain hard.

"Someone needs to man the stationary defence turrets. They might give everyone a better chance to escape, and of losing them…"

"Cortes, you know that's not necessary. They're not powerful enough to slow down a full invasion by much…"

"Aye, but they might slow them down a little."

"Cortes…"

"I said leave, Wayan," Cortes barked. "That's an order!"

Suddenly, there was an explosion and Puerto Angel shook.

"They're here already!" Wayan exclaimed.

"That's why you have to go!" Cortes physically pushed the other man, and then ran after him. With the Sphere here already the turrets would be useless; they'd take too long to get to.

Wayan and Cortes ran until they got to the Saint Nazaire. The ship was beginning to move out of its dock.

"Hurry, Wayan!" Cortes shouted. He quickly scanned the docks, making sure no one had been left behind.

Sphere ships could be seen gathering in front of the Saint Nazaire. And Cortes could just make out a few that were following the ships with Puerto Angel's refugees. He ran to the edge of the dock, swung his rifle from his shoulder and powered it up. Then he began firing into the nearest patroller. The rifle wasn't as powerful as the turrets, but he could at least distract the Sphere from the Saint Nazaire. The ship was vulnerable until it got out into more open air.

"Captain!" Wayan shouted.

A quick glance over his shoulder, and Cortes could see the Saint Nazaire was swinging closer to their side of the dock, trying to get close enough so they could get on board.

"Go, Wayan! Get on board!"

Wayan ran up beside Cortes, and fired his own gun at the patroller Cortes had been concentrating on. Deciding it was taking too much fire, the ship backed off. Needing something to do until it could get at the Saint Nazaire it fired a blast into the side of some buildings.

"You don't have to do this!" Wayan shouted.

"I'm supposed to protect Puerto Angel!" Cortes snapped. "I can at least…"

"Cortes! This isn't what you need to protect!" Wayan gestured at the burning buildings. "That is!" He pointed out to the ships dwindling in the distance.

"That's why I'm trying to slow the Sphere down…"

"With that?" Wayan pointed at Cortes' rifle, even as they had to open fire on another patroller that was getting to close for comfort. "Come on. You're far more use to us alive, believe me."

Cortes gritted his teeth and nodded. The Saint Nazaire was almost beside them.

"Alright, get ready… now!" shouted Wayan. Both men jumped, clearing the side of the ships bow, landing heavily and tumbling onto the deck.

The Saint Nazaire was now clearing the dock, and a patroller opened fire. The larger ship rocked under the impact, and hot metal sprayed across the deck. Cortes felt himself thrown down, and then the blast wave hit, whiting out his senses.

----

_God… please let this be the part where I wake up…_

----


	2. Chapter 2

Cortes slipped gradually into consciousness. First, he became aware that all he could see was darkness. Then he began to hear voices; familiar voices. Then it all came back to him in a rush. He remembered what had happened, realised it was dark because he had his eyes closed and was lying down, and sat up with a gasp. It was a bad idea, because his vision went dark again, though his eyes were wide open. His head throbbed so that for a moment he almost couldn't tell which way was up.

"Vector, he's awake…"

Cortes just made out the voice as Dahlia's. He blinked, and the spots in front of his eyes began to clear as the blood made its way back into his head at a more stable rate.

"Cortes…"

The first person he was able to focus on was the Vector as he came and sat down beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Cortes could now see he was in the Saint Nazaire, up the back of the bridge on one of the bench seats there.

"Are you alright?" the Vector asked. "You were out for quite awhile…"

Cortes looked around, trying to pinpoint the rest of his crew. Besides the Vector, he could see Lena and Dahlia. Both of them were hovering and looking worried. "What happened…" he asked.

"Don't you remember?" asked the Vector. "Oslo…"

"I remember that!" Cortes snapped, and then felt his head spin again. He ignored it. "What happened afterwards? What happened to Puerto Angel?"

"It's gone, Cortes. I'm sorry. The Sphere was blasting the village as we left… I doubt they left much…"

Cortes drew in a breath. "What about all the ships?"

"They're okay…"

"Don't lie to me, Vector!"

"I'm not, Cortes…"

"But the Sphere was right on us…"

"I know. But we were able to load and activate Blue Sky on the Saint Nazaire's computers. Then we boosted it through the other ships' systems. There Sphere don't know where we went."

Cortes exhaled, and felt himself shudder. Somehow, he'd thought it would be much worse. It _should_ have been much worse. He didn't know whether he should be grateful, how could he be? They had still lost so much. "Everyone still lost their homes… where are they all supposed to go!?" He looked down at his arms. A prickling sensation in them had started to bother him, and when he felt his sleeves he could feel bandages beneath them.

"You practically got caught in an explosion," the Vector explained. "You got a bit of shrapnel in them. It's okay, it's out now. But you probably have a concussion too, so you should take it easy…"

"Doesn't matter…" Cortes muttered. His arms were now bothering him more because he knew they were hurt, but his headache was still worse. It was just something else he'd have to ignore.

"And also… Cortes, there's something I have to tell you. That explosion…"

"Cortes!" Cheng had just now walked onto the bridge, followed by Mila and Mahad. He dashed across to Cortes, and threw his arms around his neck.

"Cheng, are you alright?"

Cheng gripped onto Cortes tighter, his face hidden against the Captain's shoulder. "… yeah…" he got out eventually, his voice choked. "I didn't know if you were going to get on a ship…" he trailed off, still clinging to Cortes.

Cortes closed his eyes, and gripped Cheng back tightly. "I'm sorry, lad. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

Cheng finally released him, sitting down quietly beside him.

"We need to…" Cortes was having trouble thinking. His head ached. Again, he tried to ignore it. "We can't just float around. These people need a place to stay. They need water…" He tried to push himself up, but the room spun, and he had to sit down again, afraid he would loose his balance.

"Careful, Cortes," said the Vector, again resting his hand on the Captain's shoulder. "You don't need to do that. We're taking care of it…"

Cortes nodded. Then he looked around the bridge, again checking his crew. Everyone else was now here, but… "Vector… where's Wayan?"

The rest of the crew stayed silent, but now looked down at various places on the floor. Dahlia chewed her lip and her eyes had gotten teary. None of them could look at him. Cortes guessed before the Vector spoke.

"He's dead, Cortes. He got caught in the same explosion you did. But he got so much shrapnel in him it killed him in minutes. I'm sorry…"

Cortes just nodded. He remembered he had been thrown to the deck _before_ the blast wave hit. Wayan had thrown him down, and taken the brunt of the explosion in his own body. Cortes tensed his fists, causing the cuts and slices in his arms to sting; the only part of him that Wayan had failed to shield.

He was supposed to protect Puerto Angel and its people. But he had let Wayan die.

Cortes' head dropped, and he let out a single, ragged sob before he pulled himself back under some semblance control. He felt pressure around his upper arm and back; Cheng was hugging him again.

"We'll take care of things for now, Cortes," said the Vector gently. "We've already sent a transmission to some of our affiliated blocs. Both Torquay and Urangan have responded and agreed to offer help. It'll be alright. I promise you." The Vector squeezed Cortes' shoulder one last time, before getting up and leaving him with Cheng.

Cortes stayed with his head bowed. He was too tired now to try and force himself to help, and the grief made him loose all will to fight against the pain in his head. He just hoped the Sphere would leave them alone.

Even if they did, it was already too late for Wayan.


End file.
